The Scars that Remain
by Jewel08
Summary: Harry had always tried to save people, as did Sam Winchester. However, Harry made a choice years ago, and now Sam has to deal with the results while figuring out exactly who, and what, he is.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I blame this one entirely on Harry-Potter-is-Dean-Winchester fics. Entirely their fault. I just think there's a lot of potential in HP/SPN crossovers, and while most have Harry as a wizard-turned-Hunter, or as Dean and Sam's brother, there have been a couple where Harry was the reincarnation of someone. Like Lucifer, Michael, even Gabriel and Dean once. But there's no Sam. So since I am such an amazing person, I decided to make my own. **

**I am currently trying to watch Supernatural on Netflix, and I am getting through Season 4. So rest assured, I am not going into this not knowing what in the world happens in the show, like with Naruto. **

**Read and Review!**

Chapter One

Not a lot of things could get a reaction out of Death. After all, he was one of the first ever beings of the Universe, the one Truth that could never be outrun or denied. However, there had been times over the millennium where someone or something managed to do something he hadn't been expecting. Harry Potter was one such example; instead of exploiting his status as Death's Master, Potter tried everything he could to be rid of the Hallows whose loyalty he had gained.

Unfortunately, no mortal, even a natural-born wizard, could destroy objects made by Death. Especially by _snapping_ it. (That had almost amused him, that the last descendent of the Peverell family was so desperate to get rid of the curse of his line.)

Death kept a watch over Harry Potter's life, vaguely interested in what his Master would end up doing. However, Potter didn't end up living much longer. The wizard had become almost detached from his life, unsure of who he was or what he should do without an egomaniac of a Dark Lord haunting his every step. Harry had rebuffed the redheaded witch's advances, instead remaining alone as he tried to move on, past all the manipulations, pain, and conditioning that had been going on since his parents' deaths.

But one day, while in Diagon Alley with Ron and Hermione, a fight broke out between a Light Family and a couple of suspected Voldemort supporters. It quickly turned deadly, Killing Curses being flung around like it was going out of fashion. When Harry Potter stepped forward to try and stop the fighting, he noticed that one of the combatants had had a wickedly-curved knife, one that was now on a deadly course straight for Hermione.

Hermione Granger, who was involved with a Muggle Consulting Detective and now expecting a child.

There was no hesitation, no consideration; Harry's body seemed to move on its own as he leapt in between his dearest friend and the weapon. It pierced him in the chest, only a few inches away from his heart, and Harry Potter, Savior of the wizarding World, crumpled to the ground. Hermione screamed, instantly throwing herself to his side, desperately trying to stem the blood that gushed from the wound.

"Harry! HARRY!"

* * *

Death waited impatiently for his Master to wake up, leaning on his cane. They were once again in King's Cross, empty of the trains that would be in the actual station. Potter finally shifted, sitting up slowly as he looked around. His green eyes were shocked as he realized where he was, and the wizard jumped when death finally spoke.

"I'm glad to see you finally awake. We have much to discuss, _Master_."

* * *

Harry scrambled to his feet, confusion and panic warring in him as he remembered what had just happened.

"Your friend and her child are fine," Death said blandly. "However, there were a few casualties that were not prevented by your death."

"So, you're really...?" Harry asked haltingly. Death gave him a Look, raising an eyebrow. "Who did you think I was, Master? Did you think that the 'Tale of the Three Brothers' had no basis in fact? You gathered my Hallows, and you thought that there was no entity behind their creation?"

Harry lowered his eyes. "I'd hoped..."

"I know very well what you'd hoped, Harry Potter. But it is not within any natural-born wizard's power to destroy artifacts created by one such as I. Like it or not, you are my Master, and no matter what you could've tried, there is no way out of it."

"So what now?" the wizard asked. "I assume I can't go back."

Death snorted. "No, you cannot. There is no Horcrux you can trade, this time. But, if you are not ready to finally rest, there is another option..."

* * *

_"God is real?" _

_"Where did you think a natural-born witch or wizard's power came from, Master? It is just a miniscule amount of the power of God, what he used to create what you see around you. Some wizards, like Merlin, your Hogwarts' Founders, and even yourself, simply have a little more than most." _

_"But what does this have to do with me?" _

_"It has to do with one of his eldest sons, the one who first rebelled and Fell from Heaven. The one called the Morningstar, the Lightbringer. You may know him as Lucifer. He will eventually break free from his Cage in Hell and try to assume command over the Four Horsemen." _

_"Aren't you one of them?" _

_"Yes. And as Death, I do not like being controlled. And while your mere presence would be able to throw off many of Heaven and Hell's plans, I plan on doing much more than that. You will be reborn as one of the two major players in the events that unfold, with a family that will actually care for you this time around. I cannot promise a life without tragedy, loss, or despair, but for what you can gain you may consider it worth it." _

_"...When do I start?"_

* * *

Samuel Winchester sat up in bed, panting harshly as his heart thumped wildly in his chest. His brown hair was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead, and Sam laid back on the bed, trying to control his ragged breathing. Jessica shifted next to him but didn't wake, and Sam was thankful for that. How could he even explain the nightmares he got to her?

Finally he got up and went over to his phone. These dreams were starting to freak him out, and Sam just didn't know what to do about them anymore. Not only was he dreaming of Jessica dying similarly to his mother, but these fragments of what seemed like memories haunted him. He remembered seeing the figure of Death, and snippets of a conversation about... what was it?... someone named Lucifer.

Perhaps even the real deal, the actual Devil. And if any of this was true, even a little bit, there was no way Sam would be able to deal with it on his own.

For the first time in two years, Sam typed in Dean's number and held the phone up to his ear.

_"Yeah?"_

"Dean? I need to talk to you."

_"Sammy?"_

* * *

Sam didn't manage to get any more sleep, so he decided to give in and do some research on his dreams. He didn't think he'd find anything, but he couldn't just sit and wait for Dean to make it to Stanford. He was all the way in New Orleans, or at least near New Orleans, so it would take him at least a couple of days.

It had been...nice, talking to Dean again. It was only now, after two years of being separated from his family, that Sam realized just how much he missed his older brother. Dean had always been the steady figure in his life, no matter where they were or what they were hunting. And while the friends he'd made at Stanford were great, none of them were Dean.

Sam laughed quietly. When did he get so dependent on his older brother?

For the next few hours, the only noise in Sam and Jessica's dorm room was the quiet typing of a keyboard. Sam rubbed a hand over his face, stretching a little as he shut his laptop. Nothing, just like he'd thought. And he didn't have any contacts with Hunters anymore, so no resources on that end. Bobby might have had something, especially on any 'natural-born witches and wizards', but Sam wasn't sure if Bobby was mad at him for leaving or not. He might've been a coward, but he just couldn't face Bobby's disappointment.

His phone rang, and Sam opened it quickly, so that the ringtone wouldn't wake up Jessica. "Dean?"

_"Hey, Sammy. It's good you called when you did." _

"Why?"

Dean sighed over the phone. _"Dad's missing."_

Sam sat up straighter. "What?"

_"Just got a voicemail from him; it's weird, man. But it sounds like something's happened to him. Called a few people, and nobody's seen him. It's like he just vanished off the face of the planet."_

"Nobody matching Dad's description in the hospital or morgue?"

_"Nope. But Dad going missing and your dreams of your girlfriend dying exactly like Mom... it can't be a coincidence. I'm gonna be there late tonight at the latest, and then I think we gotta go to where Dad was huntin'. We need to find him, he might know somethin' about this." _

"What was he hunting?"

_"Don't know; there were at least ten mysterious disappearances out in Jericho, California over the last ten years and Dad went to go check it out. I'll give you the details when I get there." _

"Alright. See you Dean."

Sam closed his phone and ran a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the little thrill of anticipation and dread that crept down his spine. Two years of trying to move past the hunting and the thoughts of this being the day his father or brother might not make it back, and then that life sneaks back up on him anyway. He was never going to be able to be normal, was he?

* * *

Sam wasn't able to concentrate on his classes that day at all; his friends and Jess kept giving him worried looks and Sam couldn't even think of anything to say to them. _Hey guys, I'm okay, really; I'm just dreaming of Jess dying exactly like my Mom did when I was six months old, my Dad's gone missing hunting something supernatural in Jericho, and I'm also dreaming of the personification of Death talking about the Devil and the Apocalypse._

Yeah. That'd go over real well.

Theories kept whirling around in his head of what their Dad could've been hunting, and why he'd just gone missing, but there was just too many possibilities. Sam didn't have all the facts and it was driving him nuts; while Dean and their Dad mostly took care of the actual hunting, research had been more his thing, and not having everything he needed to figure this out irritated him to no end. (That wasn't to say Sam couldn't do actual fighting; he'd kick anyone's ass that tried saying he couldn't.)

The hours seemed to drag on, and Sam tried to focus on anything but the fact that he'd soon be face to face with his older brother for the first time in two years, trying to find their missing father.

"Sam?"

Jess stood in front of him, worry in her eyes as she looked him over. "Sam, you've been acting weird all day. What's wrong?" When her boyfriend didn't answer, the blonde stepped closer, putting her hands on his chest. "Please, Sam, don't shut me out. Let me help, even just a little."

"It's just...my dad's missing. He was on a hunting trip up in the mountains, and my brother called me last night. He wants me to go with him to find our Dad. He's comin' by tonight, and I'm worried."

The truth, just not the whole thing. There were mountains up near Jericho, right? Maybe?

Jess understood immediately that that was all he wanted to say about it, though not for the reason she was thinking. So she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and went to their bedroom, knowing that she shouldn't bug him about going to the Halloween party. He'd never been one for celebrating Halloween, and now that his Dad had gone missing, Sam would definitely not be in the mood for a party. But she was still going, so she needed to get ready. "You're still driving me to the party, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, smiling slightly. "Just give me a call when you need to be picked up, all right, Jess?"

Sam had never liked Halloween, even before learning about all the monsters that were really out there in the dark. He was always on edge, waiting for something horrifically awful to happen to him, to his entire family. Dean was the only one that could ever manage to calm him down, and that was only by allowing his younger brother to cling to him like a leech until midnight had finally passed. Last year, during his first year at Stanford, Sam hadn't coped well with Halloween at all. Without Dean or anyone at least vaguely familiar, like his Dad, around, Sam had ended up getting blackout drunk and barricaded in his dorm, refusing to let anyone in until the next morning. He'd salted the place to high heaven and used every single Hunter protection he knew of to protect himself. After that, his friends had decided not to let him be alone during Halloween from then on.

Once Sam dropped Jess off, he drove back to the dorm and began packing. At least three complete changes of clothes, and then the hunting weapons he hadn't been able to make himself throw away. Just another sign that this try to have a normal life had failed miserably. Sam ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. It was just a feeling, but Sam knew that he wouldn't be coming back to Stanford for a while.

* * *

Sam must've dozed off after picking Jessica up and bringing her back to their dorm, because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes. He got up slowly, frowning. He could've sworn he'd heard... There! Footsteps, in the dorm. Jess was sleeping next to him, and while it could be Dean, there was always the chance that it wasn't. Sam got up and quietly crept to where he thought the noises were coming from, expertly avoiding any creaky floorboards with the ease of long practice.

He spied the shadowy figure wandering around, and when whoever it was entered the living room area, Sam grabbed their shoulder. He was grabbed right back, and Sam's training kicked in. However, he hadn't seriously practiced in over two years, so the short-lived fight ended with Sam on the floor, the grinning face of his older brother above him.

"Whoa, easy tiger."

"Dean?" Sam asked, letting his head drop back on the floor before glaring at his annoying sibling. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's cause you're out of practice," Dean said smugly. Sam scowled and kicked Dean over the head, rolling over and pinning Dean to the floor instead of the other way around. Dean groaned before laughing a little. "Or not. Get off me."

"Man, you've gotta learn how to knock. If I'd had a gun, I would've shot you first and asked questions later." Dean raised an eyebrow so Sam continued. "Jess lives here with me."

Dean rolled his eyes and said, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah; just need to grab my bag and I'll meet you by the car."

Jess was half-awake when Sam walked in to grab his duffel bag, so he kissed her cheek and told her to go back to sleep. "My brother's here, and we're gonna leave in a few minutes. I'll be back in a couple days, alright? Love you." Jess turned over and her breathing evened out once more. Sam smiled softly and ran his fingers through her hair before grabbing the bag and shutting the door softly behind him.

* * *

"So what was Dad hunting?"

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and lifted the false bottom, revealing all the hunting weapons he kept there. "Let's see, where the hell did I put that thing...?"

"So you weren't with him because you were down in New Orleans?"

"Yep; some voodoo thing. Anyway, about a month ago, this guy vanished from Jericho, California. His car was found eventually, but he'd vanished, completely MIA."

Sam looked over the paper with the guy's information before looking up at Dean. "I'm guessing that he wasn't the only one?"

"Here's another one in April, then one in December '04, '03, '98, '92; ten of them over the past 20 years. All of them men and the same five-mile stretch of road. It started happenin' more and more, so Dad went to go check it out. That was about three weeks ago; haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough, but then I got that voicemail."

Dean played the message, which was pretty hard to make out, and then they heard the woman's voice.

_"I can never go home..."_

Sam nodded. "Let's get going, then." Dean grinned, shut the trunk, and the two brothers got into the car, driving off.

* * *

Sam fell asleep in the Impala, and just like every single night for the past few weeks, he had the same two dreams. First Jessica's death, and then the conversation between the black-haired man and Death. That second dream, though, was just weird. It felt...personal, like it was something Sam had simply forgotten instead of dreaming about. He _knew_ those two men, probably just as well as he knew Dean.

"The dreams again?" Dean asked from the driver's seat.

"..Yeah," Sam admitted, sitting back up. "I don't know, Dean, do you think I should've told Jessica to be careful while I was gone? I just have a bad feeling."

Dean gave him a considering look before turning back to the road. "You know her better than I do, Sammy; would she have accepted the supernatural and all the things you've done? Would she have accepted the fact that you've been dreaming about her dying exactly like Mom?"

Sam swallowed. The sad thing was, he couldn't really answer that. He knew they loved each other, but would it be enough if he came clean about his family and what they do? Sam just didn't know, and that scared him. He didn't want to lose anyone else he loved. Their mom's death had been bad enough, and Sam didn't remember her like Dean and their dad did.

"I don't know."

"Just...don't make the same mistake I did, Sammy."

That make Sam pause for a moment, looking at his older brother curiously. Did that mean that Dean had loved a girl enough once to tell her about all the monsters they hunted on a daily basis? But as badly as Sam wanted to ask, he could tell by the tightness of Dean's jaw that it wasn't the right time to ask.

* * *

"I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?"

"Well, for one they're cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? They're the greatest hits of the mullet rock."

"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music...shotgun shuts his cake-hole."

* * *

It was scarily easy to slide back into his old habits and patterns of hunting; get into the crime scene, do research on any violence or murders that might have happened, talk to any witnesses or relatives, figure out what the hell kind of supernatural thing they were dealing with this time, and then deal with the son of a bitch. Thankfully, it was just a simple salt-n-burn; once they'd find the corpse and destroyed it, everything would be good.

It was what they discovered about their dad's disappearance that really worried them.

_"He's gone. Dad left Jericho."_

"What? How do you know?"

_"I've got his journal."_

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

_"Well, he did this time."_

"What's it say?"

_"The same old ex-marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."_

"Coordinates. Where to?"

* * *

"...Alright, Dean," Sam said. His older brother looked over at him. "I'm not gonna go back to Stanford. I'll stay. But we gotta get some more of my clothes from the dorm, alright?"

Dean grinned. "Alright, Sammy. What made you change your mind?"

"You."

That surprised Dean if the expression on his face was any indication. "Huh? Come again?"

"You're my older brother, Dean."

Dean simply gave him a look like 'Duh! Your point?'

"You raised me more than Dad did, as sad as that is. Dad may have taught me hunting and every single evil thing he's encountered out there, but you did everything else. Dean, you kept me safe, tried to give me the normal experiences every other kid got." Sam's eyes dropped to the pendant on Dean's chest. He never took it off, ever since the day Sam had given it to him. "And while I might be worried about Dad, I'm going back because of you. You need my help, and because I've missed you these two years. Having a normal life...it wasn't all that great. Kinda boring without you there."

Dean looked equal parts uncomfortable and flattered. (Lord knows that Dean didn't really like 'chick-flick moments'.)

"What about your girlfriend?"

"I'll tell her the truth when we get back. And if she can't accept it..." Sam swallowed. Hunting was dangerous, and if Jess wanted nothing to do with it, she'd be in constant danger. And maybe Sam just had screwed-up ideas, but he didn't want to have to constantly save his significant other. He wanted more of a partnership.

The Supernatural world and Hunting in general wasn't done with the Winchesters. It wouldn't spare Jessica Moore even if she was just a regular civilian.

Dean was silent, lost in thoughts of dark skin and ebony curls.

* * *

The dorm room was dark and silent when Sam got back, and it unsettled both brothers. There was something _wrong_ about it. Dean stayed behind to check out the living room while Sam went to check on Jess.

Their room was empty, the covers messed like Jess had been lying there recently. But she was just gone.

Dark drops appeared on the sheets, and Sam tilted his head in confusion before cautiously touching it. It was thick and had a cloying scent of...copper. Sam's eyes widened, and he looked up at the ceiling. His girlfriend was pinned there, blond hair splayed around her face like a halo and a blank, surprised look frozen on her face. And her stomach was gutted.

"SAMMY!"

"JESS!"

Jess's body burst into flames just as Dean ran into the room, looking panicked. Sam fell to the floor, arms over his head protectively as he stared at his girlfriend in horror. Dean took in the sight in one moment, darting forward and seizing his younger brother, dragging him out of the room.

"Come on, Sammy, we gotta get out of here!"

"No! No! Jess! JESS!" And they barely made it out before the apartment blew, raining hot glass shards all over the pavement below.

* * *

Dean looked at the crowd gathered around the building, chattering and looking nervous as they discussed what might have happened to cause the fire and explosion. None of them would have ever believed what actually happened. Demons and other things like that just didn't exist, after all. Dean turned away from the sight and walked up to his car, eyes serious and worried as he looked at his little brother.

Sam's clothes were singed and he still smelled like smoke, which was ignored as he examined one of the guns in the Impala's trunk. Sam looked up for just a brief moment, tear tracks barely evident by the police and fire truck lights before he looked back down. But Dean gasped softly. In that one glance, Dean knew he saw Sam's eyes change color. Both of them had hazel eyes, brown mixed with green, but Sam's had always been more brown than green. But there, Dean could have sworn that his brother's eyes had turned an eerie, glowing emerald color.

"There was sulfur on the windowsills," Dean said quietly. "That's how I knew something was wrong."

"She hadn't been dead long," Sam muttered just as quietly, tossing the gun into the trunk before turning to Dean. "She left me a voicemail on my phone not too long before we got to Stanford." His eyes hardened, the flash of bright emerald green appearing again. "It killed Mom, and now it's killed Jess. How many more people are gonna die before this thing's done?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "So what now, Sam?"

"We got work to do."

Only a couple of feet away, the dark figure of a man leaning on a cane could just barely be seen. Death smiled, looking closely at the younger Winchester before vanishing. His reborn Master would have a long and bloody road ahead of him, but whether he was a Potter or a Winchester, the Master of Death would never go down without fighting.

**And the first chapter is done. One of the longer ones I've ever done, too. It was really weird; once I started typing, I just couldn't seem to stop. I hope I did well writing the boys; I don't want to shame them, after all. There's not going to be any slash or Wincest in here, though, unless I decide to give one of the angels a female vessel. After all, angel are technically genderless, right? I'm kinda tempted to turn Luci or Gabe into a girl and pair her with Sam, but I don't know how receptive you guys would be to that. **

**Another thing: Sam is not a wizard in this story. Harry had powerful magic, and I don't want him too overpowered by combining Sam's psychic abilities with magic. Heck, Sam's status as Master of Death shakes things up enough. He'll simply have powerful psychic abilities, and maybe sometimes he'll do something similar to his magic, but that's all. **

**Now, who wants to know how this Sam will shake the Spn universe up? I do! So don't forget to review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Holy crap, I am blown away by all the Favs, Follows, and reviews that this story got for the first chapter! I guess I underestimated just how much people love Harry Potter and Supernatural, huh? But I'm not complaining; I love seeing how much you guys like this story, and it just gets me so motivated! **

**However, I do have some bad news. My laptop died recently, and that was how I was updating my various stories. So at the earliest, it'll be another few weeks until I can buy a new one, but it will be likely longer. In the meantime, I have resorted to using the library computers again to get some updates out. So I apologize, but you might need to be just a little bit patient. **

Chapter Two

"Are you kidding me?"

"What, Sammy?"

"The second hunt in, and we're already up against a Wendigo. I think we have the weirdest luck imaginable."

"It could be worse, Sammy."

"How?"

"...There could be witches involved. Man, I still hate witches. So annoying."

"So you don't like them because they're like you? Annoying and never staying gone?"

"Hey!"

* * *

Well, they managed to kill the Wendigo without any more people dying or being eaten themselves, so Sam considered that a plus. Blackwater Ridge would be safe for campers again, unless another Wendigo decided to move out that way. (Oh, please let that not happen..) It was kind of amusing to see Hailey and Dean interact, since Dean's habits definitely hadn't changed in that area while Sam was at Stanford. (In fact, Sam would kind of want to see Dean's reaction if they found out one day that during one of his flings, the protection broke and there was now a mini-Dean running around.)

But they had to hit the road and find another case, and hopefully find another clue as to where the hell their dad had vanished to.

"Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?" Dean asked him as they sat on the hood of the Impala. Sam sighed through his nose before looking up at the night sky. As always, his eye stopped on Sirius, the Dog Star, and he felt just a little bit better. Like he was less alone, with only his brother watching out for him. "Yeah," Sam said eventually. "I know. But until then..." he looked over at Dean and gave a small mischievous smile. "I'm driving."

Dean gave an answering grin and tossed him the keys, Sam easily catching them before heading over to the driver's seat.

The Impala roared to life before driving away, the brother and sister Sam and Dean had helped watching the car get smaller and smaller before vanishing entirely. Off to help other families, other people in need of help. "Thank God," Haley whispered. "I can't imagine what would've happened if they hadn't been here."

* * *

One of the next hunts, however, ended up more important than either Winchester thought it would be at first. It started as it normally did, with Dean going through obituaries in different newspapers, looking for suspicious-sounding deaths that might have actually been caused by something supernatural. And the one he found was a teenage girl by the name of Sophie Carlton.

"Sophie Carlton's the third Lake Manitoc victim this year; she apparently walked into the lake and never came back out. Her body was never found, and none of the other victims so far were either."

"Okay; I guess we get to go to Wisconsin." Sam shot his older brother a look when the pretty blond waitress shot Dean a flirtatious look. "Dean, really? You can flirt later; we're going on a hunt, remember?"

"You know we are allowed to have fun, right? That's fun," Dean demanded.

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the back of Dean's leather jacket, dragging his older brother out of the diner. "_Merlin_, I can't believe you sometimes..." the brunette said under his breath, not even noticing what he'd just said. Dean, however, managed to catch it and sent a confused look to his little brother.

* * *

Sam knew something was not right in that town as soon as they crossed the border. It wasn't anything he could really explain, only this feeling of something being _wrong_ just underneath his skin. He felt his skin crawl with just how _off_ everything seemed, and that feeling only intensified when he came face to face with the sheriff of the town, Jake Devins. Dean kept shooting him worried looks until they booked a room in the local inn, where he finally sat Sam down on one of the beds and said, "Okay, what's wrong, Sam? As soon as we entered the town, you've been acting weird. And the way you were looking at the sheriff..."

"This whole town's wrong, Dean," Sam managed to say. "I don't really know how to explain it. Something...something bad happened in this town, and it's like I can feel it. Not any specifics, but..."

Dean nodded, deciding to solve this case quickly and think about all this later. "And the sheriff?"

"It was worse, like he was the center," Sam said, lifting his head to look Dean in the eyes. "Whatever happened in this town to make me feel like this has to be connected to him in some way."

"Okay; but before we start digging around the sheriff's background, we need to go talk to Sophie Carlton's family. They might have seen something when she drowned."

Sam nodded. "Alright; just give me a moment, I need to try and get used to it."

* * *

However, any adjustment Sam had managed to accomplish went out the bloody window as soon as they got to the lake and met Bill Carlton. Sophie's father felt just like Jake, as if he was the center of what was happening in this town. And the lake they were all standing next to...Sam's attention wasn't on Bill or Dean's attempts to talk to him. Eventually Sophie's brother Will was willing to answer a few questions about what had happened, but Sam remained on the dock, looking out at the water.

Sam knelt, examining what he could without touching the water. "That feeling's worse here...what could have happened?" he murmured.

"Sam!"

Dean waved at him. "Get your butt over here, Sammy, we're leaving!"

As the tall brunette snorted and left, he didn't notice the waves on the surface of the lake getting wilder and more chaotic, nor did Sam realize he was being watched.

* * *

_In the deep darkness of Lake Manitoc, the spirit of a young boy thought about that strange human who had been on the dock, next to that _man._ Whoever that stranger had been was enough to shake the veil of rage and hurt and vengeance that often overtook him. The human had been tall, with brown hair, but his eyes...they were different. _

_Something about that stranger called to him, and now the spirit of Peter Sweeney felt torn. Torn between making Jake and Billy feel the same pain that his mom did every day or perhaps finding out more about whoever had been on the dock._

* * *

"Apparently the three this year weren't the first to go missing in that lake," Dean announced a few hours after they had returned to their motel room. He had Sam's laptop balanced on his knees, looking up any information on the Lake Manitoc drownings. "There've been six others, spread over the past 35 years."

"No bodies those times either?" Sam asked.

"Nope. No eyewitnesses, no bodies, nothing...wait."

"What?"

"Don't know if you were paying attention, but Jake's daughter Andrea came by with her son Lucas. Kid never spoke a word, and apparently he's been like that ever since his dad died. And here..." Dean pointed to a picture on the screen of a young boy wrapped in a towel, "it says that Chris took Lucas out swimming on the lake, and he drowned. Lucas was out there on a floating wooden platform for two hours before he got rescued...no wonder the kid was freaked out."

"I guess there is an eyewitness after all," Sam said. "Maybe he saw whatever's doing this."

"At least it's something to go on," Dean shrugged.

* * *

"I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie. I just drove past the Carlton house; there was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?"

"Yep. In the _sink_."

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature, we're dealing with something else."

"But what?"

"I don't know. Water wraith maybe? Some kind of demon? Something that controls water."

"Yeah; but how is this connected to both Jake and Bill Carlton? You find anything on their histories?"

"Nothing official, no, but I managed to see Lucas at his and Andrea's house. He gave me this."

"...I'm guessing it's a building in town?"

"Lucas hasn't been wrong so far. I think that house might be where this started, or at least have something to do with this."

"Okay. I guess we'd better get going."

* * *

"Sorry to bother you ma'am, but does a little boy live here by chance? He'd wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."

The old woman's face filled with deep heartbreak before she began speaking. "..No, sir. Not for a very long time."

She didn't have to say much before Sam and Dean realize that the boy in the picture was Peter Sweeney, the woman's only son. "Peter's been gone 35 years now. The police never..._I_ never had any idea what happened." She turned back around to face them after trying to collect herself. "He just disappeared. Losing him... you know... it, it's worse than dying."

Sam went over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She gave a small sob before continuing. "He...he was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school. And he never showed up."

Dean noticed something out of the corner of his eye and looked over at it, tilting his head. Sam was busy comforting Peter's mother, who was still in so much pain even so many years later, so Dean walked over and plucked the small picture from where it was on the mirror. It was of two boys, one of them little Peter. And on the back were the names Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton.

"Well, the pieces are starting to fit together," Dean commented once they were in the car.

"Yeah... we finally have the motivation. She said it herself, losing your child is worse than dying. She's been in so much pain for 35 years, mostly because she could never find out what happened, and Peter's spirit wants the sheriff and Bill Carlton to know what that feels like. Peter's been drowning all the victims, so that might explain how he died and why he can control water."

"You think Bill Carlton and Jake drowned him in the lake?" Dean asked.

"It would make the most sense, and it explains why they feel wrong. They're the source, the ones who set this entire thing in motion. Even if it was an accident, Peter's spirit wouldn't care about that."

"Then what do we do? Bill's dead, and Jake won't want to admit to it. We don't even know if they buried the body; they most likely just let him go in the lake. There's no way to salt and burn the bones, and Peter's not gonna stop until Jake and everyone he loves is dead," Dean said, frustrated.

"Andrea and Lucas are going to be next; if Jake wants to save them, he's going to have to believe us," Sam finally said. "But I refuse to think there isn't a way to stop this. We just need to keep looking."

* * *

As it was, Andrea nearly drowned soon after that little conversation. It was only due to Dean's concern for Lucas that had them going to check up on the mother and son late at night; when Lucas opened the door with panic written all over his face and fear in his eyes, Sam and Dean immediately realized Peter must have been trying to claim another victim. Sam dashed ahead of his brother, forcing the bathroom door open when it proved to be supernaturally locked.

The bathtub was filled with dark lake water, corrupted by Peter's anger and pain, and there was no sign of Andrea underneath the water. Sam plunged his arms in, grasping Andrea's weakly-struggling body, but Peter was unwilling to let his victim go. Sam strained against the spirit's power, and his eyes began to glow green. "Peter!" he roared. "Let this woman go!"

The spirit's presence was gone so quickly that Sam lost his balance as he pulled Andrea from the water. But the impact with the floor jolted Andrea enough that she began coughing the lake water from her lungs, so the younger Winchester was just thankful that they hadn't been too late. Lucas was at his mother's side immediately, almost hysterical from watching his last remaining parent nearly drown before his eyes. Dean wrapped Andrea in a towel, handing one to Sam as well so he could dry off.

As Andrea and Lucas embraced each other, both needing the assurance that the other was safe, Sam kept his gaze on the innocent-looking water still in the tub, free from the tainted water Peter used to drown his victims. They needed to confront the spirit soon, or they might not be able to stop Peter at all.

* * *

They told Andrea of what they knew and suspected of the events that had been happening and what had led to them the next morning, since she had the right to know the truth of what was going on. She wasn't willing to believe that her father had killed Peter Sweeney 35 years ago, but faced with so much evidence that everyone connected with Bill Carlton and Jake were being murdered, Andrea couldn't deny that something needed to be done.

Lucas led them to Peter's bike, not too far from the side of the lake, and the three adults could picture what had happened that day. Whether it was an accident or not, Bill and Jake had obviously panicked once they realized what they'd done and what that would mean if anyone found out, so they clearly weren't thinking straight when they buried the bike so close to the lakeside.

There was the click of a gun, and Sam and Dean turned to face Jake, who looked worried and angry. "How did you know that was there?" he demanded harshly, hands slightly shaking.

"How long has this been eating at you, Jake Devins?" Sam said softly, hazel eyes hard. "How long have you wondered if this was going to be the day someone found this bike and tried to find out what happened to Peter Sweeney 35 years ago? And how long have you been trying to deny the fact that a young boy is dead because of you?"

Jake's trembling increased.

"Whether it was an accident or not, there have been dire consequences because of what you and Bill Carlton did that day," Sam said harshly. "Ghost stories have always been based on fact, simply twisted as they were passed down. Peter's violent death and his refusal to leave his mother turned him into a vengeful spirit, and he is the cause of all the drownings. All the victims have one thing in common; they were people you and Bill Carlton loved."

"What?" Jake demanded. "You're insane!"

"Dad, something tried to drown me and Chris died on that lake; Dad, look at me!" Andrea pleaded. "Tell me that...you didn't kill anyone."

His silence was all the answer any of them needed.

"Billy and I were at the lake," Jake slowly admitted. "Peter was the smallest, we always bullied him.." Sam's eyes narrowed as his anger increased. "But this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water...but we held him under too long, and he drowned." Jake's composure began to crack, his guilt and grief over what he had done as a young boy starting to overwhelm him. "We didn't mean to, it was an accident! We let the body go and it sank; Billy and I panicked, and we buried the bike over here. But Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings and what happened to Chris because of some ghost?" Jake stuttered, desperately searching for another reason to throw at them. "I-If this ghost really does exist, why didn't he simply come after us?"

"Ghosts can't leave the areas they died at," Dean said. "And Peter didn't just want you and Bill Carlton to pay for what you did; he wanted you two to feel the same pain his own mother felt when her son never came home. Only then would he kill you as well."

Andrea couldn't look at her father; she had looked up to him for so long, admired his drive to protect the people of the town, but now? Had he simply become a sheriff out of guilt for what he did? Her father's confession of the truth behind Peter Sweeney's disappearance shook her, doubt and disbelief and horror swirling around in her head. A flash of white caught her eye, and what she saw chilled her to the core. Lucas was kneeling on the dock, hand outstretched as he tried to grab something floating on the lake. Her gasp caught the three men's attention, and Jake reacted first, letting out a shout. "Lucas!"

They all ran to the lake, only to see a gray arm shoot out of the water and grab Lucas's wrist, dragging the young boy into the lake. Andrea's scream shattered the quiet of the morning, and both Sam and Dean dived into the water, determined to find Lucas before he drowned like all the others.

"Andrea, stay on the dock!" Sam ordered. "If you get in, Peter will drown you too, so stay there!"

He didn't stay to hear Andrea's response, taking a deep breath before submerging.

* * *

It was strange, being in the lake where Peter's spirit was hiding. The water surrounding him was filled with all the negative emotions Peter had experienced since his death, so strong that it made Sam dizzy. But he forced himself to focus.

He seemed to have a connection with the spirits of the dead; when he commanded Peter to let Andrea go, Peter obeyed. Sam could only hope that it hadn't been a one-time thing.

_'Peter!'_ he shouted with his mind. _'Show yourself, Peter Sweeney!' _

It was a good thing that time seemed to grind to a halt; Sam had no clue if he would be able to convince Peter to stop his crusade, and having to go up to the surface for air every five minutes certainly wouldn't help. But as their surroundings seemed to still, there was movement from deep below the water's surface.

Peter Sweeney's spirit was still wearing the clothes he'd died in, his hair floating around his face. The only sign of him being deceased was the blue color of his lips and the broken look in his eyes. Sam extended a hand, eyes still glowing with a forgotten power. _'Peter, my name is Sam Winchester. And I've come here to help both you and the people of this town.'_

The young boy looked both hopeful and skeptical for just a few moments, but he became angry once Sam continued speaking.

_'Peter, you've got to stop what you're doing.'_

Peter Sweeney snarled, shaking his head violently. _'Jake has to pay, just like I made Billy pay! I can't stop now, when I'm so close!'_ The spirit's expression crumbled as decades-old pain resurfaced once more; 35 years was nowhere near long enough to dull the pain. _'My mother...Mom was in so much pain because of what they did...I could hear her crying at night, wondering what happened to me...Jake and Billy didn't even have the courage to tell her what they'd done! And then I discovered that while I couldn't leave the lake, I could send the lake wherever I needed without having to leave; I could make them feel the same pain Mom did!'_ Sam and Peter looked at each other while the spirit made his plea.

_'It's not fair...Mom shouldn't have suffered this long because of what they did to me...'_

Sam's green eyes softened, and he said, _'She won't suffer for much longer, Peter...I'll make sure of that. But please, Peter...your mother seemed like a very sweet and kind woman who loves you very much...do you think she'd want you doing this, even for her?'_

Peter looked like he'd been slapped.

Sam held out a hand once more. _'Take my hand, Peter; it's past time for you to rest. I promise that my brother and I won't let Jake go unpunished, but more innocents shouldn't be killed for something they had nothing to do with. I don't think you're that kind of person'_

It seemed like the rest of the world came to a still as the broken spirit of the little boy considered Sam's outstretched hand. This would be the first time the Master of Death ever used his powers, the Reaper thought, black hair drifting in front of her face. This instant would be an indication of what they could expect from their Boss's Master.

When at last Peter took Sam's hand, emerald green light outlined the spirit's figure, Peter's eyes closed in peace and contentment for the first time in 35 years. Peter slowly faded away, but another little boy was now in his place: a little boy who had been dragged into the depths of the lake by Peter only a few minutes ago. Sam grasped Lucas's limp figure carefully, beginning to swim upward toward the surface. Dean met him halfway, and Sam transferred the little boy to his older brother's firm grip.

The Reaper smiled softly; it seemed that Sam Winchester was definitely more than what he appeared to be, and the forces of Heaven and Hell would be in for a rude awakening if they attempted to manipulate the Master of Death. After all, having Death itself's favor and loyalty was no small feat.

"I look forward to what you do from here on out, Sam Winchester."

* * *

Dripping wet and not looking happy at all, Sam crossed his arms and glared at Jake while Dean calmed Lucas down from his unexpected kidnapping and attempted drowning. Andrea hadn't let go of her son since Dean had first set him on the dock, sobbing quietly into her little boy's hair.

"Peter Sweeney's spirit is at peace now; there won't be any drownings in this lake as long as people are careful. But there's still one last thing that needs to be dealt with."

Dean, Lucas, and Andrea could only look at Sam as the younger Winchester's glare grew colder. Dean had never seen his little brother this angry, and he couldn't help but feel worried about what was going on.

"I want you to go in front of the entire town and confess what you and Bill Carlton did all those years ago," Sam commanded, his voice ringing out over the still surface of the lake. "Go to Peter's mother, stand before her, and tell her why her son never came home that day. Any other punishment is up to your people to decide." Sam's glare didn't warm up any as he bit out one last remark. "Be grateful that your life didn't end this day, Jake Devins. No one else will die for your mistakes, especially not your daughter and grandson."

Jake's head bowed in both sorrow and gratitude as the young Master of Death turned away, hands in his pockets, and started walking back to the Impala.

* * *

Dean parked the Impala off the road shortly after they left the small town, sitting on the hood with his brother while handing him a beer. Sam took it gratefully and took a swig, eyes drooping. His head slowly fell, resting on his older brother's shoulder.

"Didn't realize you were so tired, Sammy."

Sam hummed. "Whatever I did under the lake to talk to Peter and then send his spirit to rest took a lot out of me. Not to mention the havoc my senses were in as soon as we entered that town. Thankfully, after Peter moved on, the town started feeling normal again."

Dean let out a huge breath of air. "What are we gonna do about this, Sammy? We don't have a clue about what's goin' on."

"...Bobby?" Sam inquired tiredly.

Dean thought about that. Bobby probably knew more ancient and forgotten lore than any other hunter in the world, so even if he didn't know exactly what was going on with Sam, Bobby would most likely be able to point them in the right direction. And not to mention that it had been years since either Winchester had seen their pseudo-father figure.

Catching the beer bottle before it fell out of Sam's limp fingers and broke on the ground, Dean smiled as he looked at his baby brother. "C'mon, Sammy, up you go," Dean grunted, lifting Sam's body and getting him into the car. Sam just leaned against the window, not even twitching when the Impala's engine roared to life.

* * *

Standing on Bobby's doorstep for the first time in years, Dean was understandably nervous, and Sam was no help since he was pretty much still half-asleep. Taking a deep breath, the older Winchester steeled his nerves and knocked on the door, Sam still leaning on him. A few moments passed before they heard the tell-tale stomps of Bobby's boots, and the grizzled older Hunter opened the door.

Dean gave a grin. "Hey, Bobby. Surprise."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, looking over the two before stepping aside. "Well, come on in, boy. Don't need you standin' on my doorstep all night."

Dean and Sam walked in, taking their seats in the living room as Bobby laid out some water and a silver knife. Both brothers went through Bobby's tests with no complaint; if Bobby ever just trusted anyone to be who they said they were without proving it, they'd know there was something wrong with him. As expected, nothing happened to either Sam or Dean, and Bobby finally relaxed. Sam leaned his head on his open palm, trying desperately not to fall asleep while Dean kept a watchful eye on his younger brother.

"Well, not that I ain't glad to see you boys, but what are you two doin' here?"

"It's me, Bobby," Sam said softly, fighting to keep his eyes open. He hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep on the drive to Bobby's. "I...I have these weird abilities, and neither of us know what's going on. Dad's vanished off the face of the planet, and we just didn't know who else to ask."

Bobby's eyes narrowed, and he looked at Dean, who launched into all the instances that he knew about. Sam chimed in about what happened underneath the lake with Peter Sweeney's spirit, and when they were done, Bobby leaned back in his seat. "Balls. This is some serious shit you guys stepped in."

That managed to get Sam and Dean's attention, and Bobby sighed heavily. He looked deep in thought for a while, until he finally got up, looked through his massive collection of ancient books, and then he tossed a slim volume down on the table in front of the brothers. Dean leaned forward and read, "The Tales of..Beedle the...Bard?" Sam flinched as a sharp spike of pain assaulted his brain, the title of the book ringing a bell in his memories. But no matter how hard he tried, Sam couldn't quite recall where he'd heard of that book before.

"Yep. That's one of the few original copies left; I think one of the others is in Britain. You boys know about witches, of course, but there was one type of 'em that John didn't know about." That, especially, caught Sam's attention, even as that sense of familiarity washed over him again. "There aren't a whole lot of 'em over here in America, something about the aura of this country, but there are some wizards and witches with natural magic."

"Natural...?" Dean gaped.

"As in born with it, yes," Sam blurted out, eyes wide as he recalled that one specific memory he'd been dreaming about for so long. "In that one dream I've been having, Dean, one of those men said that a natural-born witch or wizard's powers came from the power of God, the power of Creation."

"Can we even trust what he'd said?" Dean protested.

"He claimed to be _Death_, Dean. The actual entity Death, like the Horseman from the Book of Revelation. Do you really think anyone would make that claim if it wasn't true?"

The two glared at each other, and then Bobby cleared his throat. "Dean, stop being an idjit and listen, will ya?" Dean broke his glaring contest with Sam and frowned at the older Hunter. "I don't know if a natural-born witch or wizard's powers come from God, that ain't been in any book I ever read, but they don't make deals with demons for their abilities. They mostly keep to themselves, especially after all the the witch hunts that happened; I only know about 'em because I saved a young couple from a nasty werewolf. Lily and James were completely unprepared for our kind of werewolf; nearly got their hearts eaten. Anyway, they told me some basic information after I saw 'em use magic, and Lily pointed me at some books with good lore. One of 'em was this." Bobby pointed at the thin book.

"It's mostly kid's tales, the magical version of Snow White, Rapunzel, and Cinderella, but there was one tale that stuck out to me." Bobby pushed the book to Dean, who opened it with some wariness. One eyebrow nearly disappeared into his hair when he read the titles of the books. "Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump... The Warlock's Hairy Heart...who the hell names their stuff like this?"

Bobby cracked a smile. "That ain't the story I wanted you to read, boy. It's the last story in the book, page 87."

"The Tale of the Three Brothers?"

"Yep. That one raised a couple of red flags for me; the story goes that three magical brothers managed to cheat Death one day, and the entity gave them each one object for having evaded him. The oldest got the most powerful wand in existence. According to the legend, who ever has its allegiance could never lose a fight." Dean raised an eyebrow. "The middle brother got a stone that could bring back the dead."

Dean couldn't help the scoff that escaped him even as he felt a pang of pain; what wouldn't his father give for the power to bring back their mother?

"The youngest brother was the smartest; he asked for something that could hide him from Death, so apparently the entity gave him an Invisibility Cloak."

Bobby didn't say anything more, so Dean bit the bullet and asked, "What happened to 'em?"

"The oldest brother was a damn idjit and boasted about his unbeatable wand while he was drunk; someone killed him in his sleep that night and stole the wand," Bobby answered flatly. "The second brother wasn't any better. He recalled the spirit of his dead fiancee, but ended up killing himself to join her in death instead. And the third lasted until a good old age, at least; he gave the Cloak to his son and then went with Death as an old friend."

"Well, this is fascinating and all, but what makes you think this story is true?" Dean asked. "I mean, it's a little bit better than 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart', at least, but I still don't think it could have actually happened."

"That's where you're wrong," Bobby said. "I didn't think it was true, either, not for a long time. But a few years ago, I got a really weird letter by owl."

"Owl?" Dean repeated, eyebrow raising even higher.

"It's how the wizards and witches mail things. Anyway, it was a young lady named Hermione Granger." Sam winced again, the pain behind his eyes getting worse. "Apparently there had been a big civil war in England that ended not long before she wrote the letter. One of her friends, the one that ended the war by killing the terrorist, had been looking into the legend and seemed to think it was real. She wanted to prove things one way or the other."

"So you guys got to talking. How did she even know about you?" Sam asked.

"And what'd you guys decide?" Dean interrupted.

"That same friend was murdered pretty soon after the war ended, saving her life. She and a few others were given all his possessions, including the letters Lily and I had written to each other after the werewolf thing. Turns out she and James had a kid, and that kid was Hermione's friend that saved her life. Harry, I think his name was. Lily wanted him to know there was someone that he might be able to depend on if he ever needed it." Bobby looked both uncomfortable and flattered that Lily had had such a high opinion of him. "Hermione told me the kid never read 'em, didn't even know Lily and James had left him letters."

"It was a lot of researchin', let me tell you," Bobby said, leaning back in his seat. "She'd done some of the research on her own already, but nothin' conclusive. She thought it was likely that the brothers in the story were part of the Peverell family, which had died out by then. She talked about a grave in Godric's Hollow with the name Ignotus Peverell, and the guy actually did exist. He was the youngest of three brothers, and the only one to live to old age. His oldest brother was murdered in his sleep at an inn, and the middle brother committed suicide."

The more Bobby talked, the more impressed Sam and Dean got. That was just the start of their research, apparently, and it was a big project. And all to settle the debate Hermione and her friend had had on whether the Deathly Hallows were real.

"Here." Bobby handed the brothers a letter.

_Thank you so much for your help, Bobby. It's been enjoyable, working with you on this. _

_But you asked me why I was so dedicated to this, and I guess you deserve an answer after all the research we've done. _

_My best friend, Harry, and I...we never agreed on whether the Deathly Hallows existed or not. He said yes, I insisted there was no way they could've been real. _

_It was one of our worst arguments. _

_And I never got to apologize. He sacrificed his life to save mine and my son's, and all I could think of was that I never apologized for the terrible way we argued. _

_During the Final Battle, he claimed to be the Master of the Elder Wand, and the wand didn't actually work on him. Instead, Voldemort died. All I can think now is that Harry had been right; the curse rebounded that final time not because of his mother but because the Elder Wand couldn't kill it's Master. And if that was true, then there was a chance that I had been wrong after all. _

_Harry had been right, and I was too stubborn to see it. _

_The Wizarding World can never know the legend is actually true, but I suppose you can say I'm trying to find closure. So that the next time I see Harry, in the afterlife, I can apologize and tell him how much I regret being so blind. After all, magic is real. Why not Death as an entity, an invincible wand, and a stone that can bring back spirits of the dead? _

* * *

Sam was absorbed in the letter, gripping it with white fingers, so Dean finally broke the silence. "She seems like just a big a nerd as Sam. They'd probably get along like a house on fire."

"Don't remind me; if they ever met, we'd never be able to get them out of the library."

There was a small amount of silence before Dean once again asked the big question. "So you think Sam has something to do with this whole 'Master of Death' thing?"

Bobby snorted. "Far from the weirdest thing I've seen, boy. And nothing else I've read or heard of could even help begin to make sense of the dreams and abilities Sam's getting. No regular creature, psychic, or spirit could do something like this, and it definitely ain't a demon. They stay well away from Reapers and Death in general for the most part. And even the most powerful demon-dealing witch would be an idiot to meddle with Death's business."

"I wish that Harry kid had talked more about what happened in that Forbidden Forest Granger mentioned," Dean mumbled. "After all, we can't ask him."

"Nope. I asked a powerful psychic I know if she could maybe talk to his spirit, but she said he was nowhere to be found. All the other spirits would say about him was that he was a favored one."

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."

Sam finally set the letter down with a loud sigh, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. "At least we have more of an idea, right, Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam. "I'm just even more confused than I was before! You've never even seen those three items, so how are you connected with them? I mean, we know their history, great, but the one person who'd be able to clear this up for us died years ago!"

* * *

Death leaned on his cane and simply watched the three Hunters bicker back and forth about what Sam Winchester's connection could be with the Deathly Hallows. He'd need to keep an eye on Robert Singer; that one was interesting, for a mortal. He didn't think any other Hunter would have connections with the natural-born witches and wizards, and even those who might would not have considered looking for answers in a childrens' fairy tale book.

With one last glance at his reborn Master, Death vanished.

_The Apocalypse isn't even close to beginning yet, but somehow you're causing more changes than even I thought possible, Harry Potter. We shall simply have to wait and see what comes of this, won't we? _

**Longest...chapter...ever. I'm not sure whether my fingers are still there or not. **

**I hope this lived up to your guys' expectations. Especially considering how long it is. So tell me if you have any comments or questions, and I'll answer them directly or post the answer at the beginning of the next chapter.**


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